Something stupid
by clockwork'sFinest
Summary: Nobody spits game like Hiro Otomo.


**the time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red and, oh, the night's so blue**

 **And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like "I love you"**

* * *

"That girl got a fat booty."

He's flipping through the records, listening to Caesar with half an ear. They were currently at a record store in downtown, Hiro was looking for some oldies to mess around with on the new turntable he got for Christmas while Caesar was snapchatting everything with the iPhone he got on the last day of Kwanzaa.

"Yo, is that your sister?" Caesar teases, nodding over to the small asian walking down the aisle. They're both thirteen and she can't be older but she works here, she's wearing a name tag and the same mandarin-collared shirt as the clerk. He knows she's Chinese from her full face and big, slanted eyes. Besides, the entire store was covered in red paper lanterns and lucky bamboo. The feng shui was almost garish.

His wired smile practically split his face in two, he wasn't shy. " 's my wife, bro."

"Yeah? Go say sumn to her." He suggested, testing his profession.

Hiro busies himself with thumbing through old vinyls, waiting for her. He wanted to tell her how pretty her eyes were. How soft her hair looked. Wanted to ask her for the price of these even though they're in the ten dollar bin. He wanted her phone number. He's got all these words for her at the tip of his tongue ready to be said.

She's getting closer, he can read her name: **MING**. He thinks its the perfect time to tell her he loves her.

But he opens his mouth and all that comes out is spit.

Right on her plump cheek.

He wipes the dribble of saliva from his downy chin and tries to apologize. But before he can, she gives him a dirty look and wipes her cheek, calling him an asshole on her way to the back.

Caesar smacks a palm over his mouth in a poor attempt to stifle his laughter. Hiro has to relive the heartbreak of his miss insulting him over and over again from the snap.

"Asshor."

"Asshor."

"Asshor."

* * *

"So this niggas ready to spit game or whatever, and then he literally spits on her!" Caesar recaps once they're all eating lunch at a fast food joint, laughing at Hiro's expense.

"Nuh-uh!" Riley blurted through a mouthful of fries. "Aww, man! Hiro, you spittin' on bitches now?"

"Yup." Caesar nodded. "Snapped the whole thing, it's on my story."

"I didn't mean to." Hiro frowned, taking a bite out of his burger. He'd also gotten braces for Christmas and was drooling like crazy.

Riley asked about her name while trying to cram six chicken nuggets in his mouth.

"Ling-ling." Caesar answered before sipping his shake.

" _Ming_." Hiro corrected.

"Woah, hold up," Huey finally spoke, looking up from his onion rings. "little asian girl Ming? With long black hair?"

"Yeah, yeah! You know her?" He asked eagerly, eyes glossing over with excitment.

"Sweaty..." Riley snickered with Caesar.

Hiro ignores them but his face falls when Huey berates her. "She's fake as hell. I wouldn't waste my time if I was you."

"Nigga, yous just salty 'cause a bitch murdered you in that game." Huey kicked Riley under the table, apparently he forgot that it was actually the other way around or something.

"Oh, I _know_ you ain't runnin' ya mouth Riley, when Cindy destroys—no, _annihilates_ you on the daily." Caesar mentioned.

He tuned them out after that, ignored the knot in his stomach, and took another bite from his burger.

* * *

He's now fifteen and she's outside of her shop, smoking.

This isn't like two years ago when they met, he told himself. He'd gotten his braces removed that July and had definitely grown over the summer so he couldn't spit directly in her face. He was watching her from across the street, debating whether he should even try. He takes a deep breath and starts walking. She notices him approaching and makes a face, he can feel his resolve dwindling with each step he takes.

He clears his throat before flashing his new, bare smile. "How you doin' Ming?"

She eyed him briefly before lighting a second.

She made his mouth dry and hands sweaty. He swallowed.

"Been a minute. How's summer treatin' you?"

She still doesn't say anything. He fills the empty silence with an awkward laugh, "Bored huh? Yeah, I'm not really up to much either."

More silence, she clicks her lighter around a new cigarette.

In a desperate attempt to stir a reaction from her, he suggests meekly, "We could be bored together,"

She finally looks his way, furrowing her brow. "O-or, do something that isn't boring? Whatever you wanna do really."

"What?" She says it so curtly, so bitterly that he really shouldn't be this happy. But it's the first time he's heard her voice in months and it's music to his ears. He wants to feature her in one of his tracks, he's that geeked.

He mulls over his words and straightens his posture. "How about you let me take you out on a date?"

"How about _you_ get the fuck out my face." Her English had improved, he wished he could say the same about her manners.

She doesn't offend him, she confuses him. "Why?"

"I'm too good for you, Jin." She takes a long drag of her cigarette, watching him the whole time.

"I know." He admitted.

She looked back up at him like she might have been impressed, but when she blows smoke in his face, he knew she wasn't.

She finished her smoke and reached for her another. Damn, this girl smoked like a chimney.

Hiro stands there and watches her breathe in the carcinogens, he's falling deeper in love with a walking cigarette. He's getting cold feet and is just now realizing how much she probably hates him. "Well, anyways, I hope we get classes together so I can watch you slap Jennifer Herman again."

He's ready to turn around and kick himself for being sappy, but she gasps and nearly drops her cig. "You remember?"

She's looking up at him with a careful mix of disbelief, liberation, and almost, _almost,_ respect.

Jenny cheated off Ming during an algebra exam and claimed the reason why they got the exact same answers was because Ming copied off of her. So the teacher pulled them out of class and didn't want to hear what Ming had to say; the truth. So she hit her. Then she, of course, got suspended and a zero on the test. While Jenny got coddled and an easy A.

She's probably wondering how he knows since it happened in a lonely hall that he just so happened to be passing. And truthfully, he should've been minding his own business, but he couldn't help it with her.

"How could I forget? I mean someone's gotta keep her lyin' ass in check." He starts laughing and, to his surprise and favor, she does too. It's calculated and cold but it warms his heart.

She caught his gaze and held eye contact, ignoring her cigarette currently burning itself up. Ming takes the last hit before pulling him by his collar and pressing her warm lips on his. Before he realizes she's kissing him, she pushes all the smoke down his throat. Hiro freezes, even with all that itchy heat inside him.

He doesn't smoke. Well, maybe once or twice with the guys at a getty. And even then it was only weed, but he'd readily catch a nicotine addiction for her now. He'd do anything for her.

His lungs beg for release, but he can't cough up a storm like he's got the fever. He knows how to ghost, Caesar taught him.

He breathes it out his nose when she steps back, ignoring his scratchy insides. Now, he decides, he'll tell her that he loves her. He clears his throat to get her attention.

But she turns around.

Her breaks over. She stomps out the stub before going back inside.

* * *

They've been seeing each other irregularly since then.

One day he'd catch her at the park playing soccer, the next she'd be in his room, listening to his SoundCloud, _Sonic Hiro,_ and making snarky remarks like how it should've been named Hiroshima. And he'd laugh, _because it's bomb right?_

Then they wouldn't see each other for days, weeks sometimes.

But when they did, they'd get right back from where they left off. She even stole a copy of _Illmatic_ from her job for his seventeenth birthday. He could officially say she at least tolerated him.

Which is why he's still hung up on her, because she let him in.

"I'm telling ya man, she ain't good to a nigga." Caesar shrugged, he's not saying, he's just saying. They're all in his room, listening to Hiro's new track.

"Bro, for real, she's cool." He assures, trying fruitlessly to convince the uncertain looks he's getting.

Riley twists his face in disgust. "She givin' you pussy or somethin' nigga? We all know dat crazy bitch ain't chill."

"Nah, it ain't like that with her." He insists.

"She's a snake." Huey said.

"Woooooord," Caesar agreed, vouching only because she played dirty against him in soccer.

Hiro sighed and turned up the song, "I mixed this one for her, she loves Amy Winehouse."

Both Freemans wince but only the youngest comments, "Damn, I was wonderin' why it sucked more than usual. Shut that whiny-bitch off nigga!"

"Honestly man, when you gonna let me in on that collab? Shits soundin' like Hiroshima up in hea." Caesar adds.

"She said that too," he blurts and realizes too late that it's a mistake.

Huey and Caesar are both staring him down with folded arms. "When?"

Hiro gives a feeble shrug and tries to smile.

"You can't be showin' that chink-bitch ya shit, cuh." Riley cries. "She'll bootleg it!"

* * *

"You're prettier than me." She said suddenly on a Tuesday evening, tracing his lips and nose with her cold fingertips. Her confession caught him completely off guard, he shuffles under her.

They're sitting on his bed —well, he's laying on his bed and she's sitting on him.

"I'm prettier than most girls," He mentioned, watching her bored expression bloom into offended. She looked so pretty when she frowned.

"not you."

She rolls her eyes, he asks why she cares.

She says she doesn't.

It's the beginning of senior year and they're on good enough terms, he supposed.

Enough that she could just waltz in here on a school night while he's doing homework and push him on his bed, and he'd let her. Enough that he knew why she lived with her former teammate, she had no where else to go. Enough that he knew no matter how many boxes of Pocky he'd buy her, she still needed more. Enough that they were slowly weaning her off cigarettes and she's so sure the world's gonna end she keeps a post-apocalyptic stock under her bed.

Enough to know that she was lying.

"Are you self-conscious?" He asks, wondering how she could think anyone is prettier than her.

"I'm tired of your lies." She replies simply.

"You're beautiful." He mused, barely brushing her eyelashes.

"You're full of shit." She accused.

She needed a smoke, he could tell.

"You're strung out."

 _"I'm fine."_ She spat through clenched teeth.

He sighed. He'd rather not be doing this right now. He's got an essay due tomorrow and it was pushing midnight.

It's been three seconds since they've said anything. Almost three days since she last touched a cigarette. And at least three goddamn years that he's kept quiet.

 _Fuck it._

"Ming." He sat up, cupping both sides of her face with his hands. She looks straight at him, intently guarded.

"I love you."

She blinks and tilts her head like she heard wrong. "What?"

"I love-"

"No," Ming shakes her head adamantly, peeling his hands off of her.

He doesn't understand.

"We're terrible for each other." She explained.

He disagreed.

"I'm yellow as hell." She held up her hand against his pale one to prove it.

"So?" He muttered, as if he could ever be petty enough to care about that.

"All you ever do is let me walk all over you."

"It's always a pleasure to be your doormat."

"You're friends hate me."

"But I love you-"

"Stop saying that." She refused every attempt he'd make, hellbent on making him believe she was a piece of shit. Almighty Ming, who was made of stone and forever declaring herself as better than everyone, was cracking.

He stopped talking for a while. Unsure of what to do next. She didn't believe him. Didn't trust that he was serious. He's felt like this since before he had chin hair, before she had boobs, and before both of them kissed. He's always loved her.

Loved her celebratory leaps in the air after scoring a goal. The fact that she only ever wore her red and yellow track jacket and couldn't be convinced otherwise. Her fingernails painted either blue or not at all. Loved her taste after she ate frozen grapes. The way she ordered her _rasagna without mozzarerra cheese._ The way her hair bled out when they were underwater. How she was dodging his advances like a bullet.

She may think she's too good to be with him, but he knew he was the only one good enough to be with her.

"I'm funny." He stated, sticking his index finger in the air and leaving her to tilt her head once again. "Okay?"

"I'm honest. I've never told a lie in my entire life." He continued like she hadn't spoken at all, crossing his index with his middle finger and winking.

But it was true. Hiro spoke nothing but the truth. "I know." She nodded.

"I'm loyal." He counted off his third finger, which was conveniently the ring finger. Ming sat quietly, listening to his rationale of why they should be together.

Also true. He'd never done as much as _looked_ at another girl while they were hanging out.

"I'll take care of you. You could move in with me whenever you want, you know that." He pulled his pinky out and linked it with hers to insure his promise. He'd offered multiple times before, but her trust issues always kept her grounded. Since they'd be eighteen in a few months and his parents were cool with it, nothing was stopping them.

Ming looked down and began to nod, accepting his reasoning without having to hear the last.

Hiro took her chin and lifted it to his lips, he'd say it anyway. He brushed her soft cheek with his thumb.

"And I love you."

* * *

 **i mess with miro heavyyyyy**

 **heavily influenced by Pirate Chapel's amazing Bang, Bang and a very special thanks to my girl Schweetpea1870 : her Caesar is gold**

 **also the tense switches from past to present irregularly, forgive me for that**


End file.
